


Heroes

by lvs2read



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Gen Work, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mal POV - Freeform, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot, old fic is old, post-BDM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvs2read/pseuds/lvs2read
Summary: Mal ruminates on heroes an indeterminate time after the events of "Serenity".
Relationships: Malcolm Reynolds/Simon Tam
Kudos: 4
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2009





	Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted in 2009 in the livejournal community comment-fic for the prompt: Mal/Simon, Where do dead heroes go?
> 
> Takes place Post-BDM, with all that entails.
> 
> Translation in mouse-over and at the end. Unbeta'd.

* * *

**Heroes**

It had taken a long time, but Mal had finally laid his demons to rest - helped in no small part by the man who now shared his bunk. He didn't know what it was about Simon, whether it was his stubborn persistence in the face of seeming intractability or blind arrogance that, as a doctor, he should be able to cure all ills, but Mal couldn't be anything but grateful that he was finally able to put the hellish nightmare of Serenity Valley behind him and move on, unencumbered by haunted dreams of death and decay.

Even his anger at God had mellowed, his faith restored bit by bit as he watched River slowly return to a semblance of normality. He'd never believe with the same fervor he'd had when he was young, but maybe that was for the best. Now he understood that there was no omnipotent being pulling the strings, just men as fallible as he was himself. And because they were men, there was always the possibility of change occurring if other men, better men, took action. As they'd done after what came to be known as the "Miranda Incident".

Not that he considered himself to be one of those "better men". As far as he was concerned, those were the ones who gave up their lives in the hours before the "incident" - some without even knowing why they were targeted. The ones being honored today.

As he sat down on the bed to pull his boots on, he reached over and shook Simon's shoulder, smiling when his lover blinked owlishly at him. "C'mon, _liànrén_ , we'll be landing inside the hour. Time's a wastin'."

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Simon sat up then yawned as he stretched his arms wide, working out the kinks in his back. "Already? You should have woken me earlier."

Mal leaned in for a kiss then stood up, buttoning the last few buttons on his shirt. "'S all right, you had a long night. You've still got time." Turning toward the ladder he smiled as he opened the hatch. "See you topside."

The next little while was busy with landing protocols, but when the ramp lowered, Simon was by his side, all spit-polished and shining like he'd never known a day's hard work, which Mal could attest was just not true - not in recent times, anyway. These days Simon chipped in wherever and whenever help was needed, willingly attempting any task and putting his top-three-percent brain to use in solving all sorts of problems. Mal sometimes thought Simon knew as much about his ship as he himself did, and even more startling, almost as much as Kaylee did.

Standing on the windswept mountain, surrounded by those he considered family while they listened to representatives of the new regime heap praise on their fallen comrades and others who had given their lives for this very outcome, Mal couldn't help but think that "heroes" came in all sorts and sizes. He still didn't know where those who died went, doubted he ever would until he went there himself, but he figured as long as their memories remained in the hearts of friends and family and on the pages of history, at least they wouldn't be forgotten.

It was the other ones he thought about. The ones who went about their daily lives doing what needs must to get by. The ones who adapted to changed circumstances without complaint. Those who complained, but adapted anyway. They were heroes in their own right, even if they were never recognized by any regime, and they deserved some kind of acknowledgement. Unfortunately, he couldn't do much about the majority of them, but he at least had it in his power to reward a select few. So as the ceremony ended and he twined his fingers with Simon's as they headed back to _Serenity_ , he anticipated with pleasure the moment when his crew, his family, would enter the dining area and find a feast laid out. A feast of not only remembrance, but also of grateful appreciation for being the everyday heroes they were and always would be.

* * *

_liànrén_ = lover


End file.
